


Heaven and Earth

by Senora_Luna



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: 1910s, AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, F/M, Mexico, Oral Sex, Passion, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senora_Luna/pseuds/Senora_Luna
Summary: After a three month tour, Héctor Rivera wants only to go home.An AU, Héctor makes it home.





	Heaven and Earth

**Author's Note:**

> For the discord challenge of the OTP, "Sweet and Passionate."

Three months, it had only been meant to be two weeks, but now Héctor’s cross-county trip with Ernesto had spanned over double it’s intended period. Dios was he weary. He had asked to cut the trip short multiple times, asked to leave his friend to the task alone-but every time Ernesto pleaded, claimed his helplessness, and assured him just how close they were to meeting the right manager. Finally, a cold night in November the pair had their last argument. Héctor packed, ready to go-until Ernesto seized his suitcase in final plea.

                “Héctor I can’t do this without your songs!” A note of near hysteria creeping into his voice, and Héctor paused. For the briefest flicker his eyes iced over, his brows turned in with apathy-then a blink.

Another blink.

Desperation did not leave the widened eyes of Ernesto-and a near quiver had begun in his hand as though he remained on a precipice. Tactile tension permeated each of their bodies, when a diagonal came of their eyes meeting. Héctor understood. This was everything to his hermano. And it infuriated and saddened him at the same time. Momentarily battle waged within Héctor, and in a span of seconds his dominant nature won, and the feeling was decided.

 

“Socorro come away from the window.” Imelda’s voice was ice enough to chill even the young niña who was still learning the meaning of all words. For a moment she lingered, chubby fingers pressed against the glass, breath creating a fogged spot until a pair of hands scooped her off the sill.

“Coco…you know better than to not heed Mamá.” Came the soft whispering voice of her Tío Oscar. He set the girl down and she wiggled free with a frown.

“Si…” came a reluctant mumble. Oscar bent at the waist to try and talk sense into the child-a constant struggle for him because he did indeed forget she was a child.

“We all have our reasons for doing things, feelings are fickle things and curiosity gets the better of us, however that doesn’t mean you can ignore Imelda-her judgement is law here-especially with Héc-,” Before Coco could even tilt her head in confusion to the bizarre sentence her Tío was spinning, again the ice struck the room.

“Enough Oscar.” Once more Coco was scooped up, this time with a soft groan as Imelda set her upon her hip. Flour was on her hands, and above that ink stains on her wrists. “Didn’t I tell you to help Tío Felipe in the barn?”

“…Si…”

“Then why are you in the main house?” Coco gave a non-committal shrug and attempted to hide her face.

“Socorro.”

“I wanted to see the road…because…the road is out front…”

“What did I say about watching the road?”

“It’s…bad…”

“Spending your day gazing at nothing turns to slothfulness.” Imelda said simply, even though her daughter could not comprehend it all. “You’ll upset Jésus.” She added more patiently.

“Noooo…” Coco moaned until she was set to the floor.

“Si. So what do we know about the window now?”

“Jésus is mad at me.” Imelda faltered, her stern nature backfiring again. Felipe rolled his eyes at the hellfire of his sister that had no place in being explained to a toddler. Looking at her, despite how foolish her attempts at been for such a simple gesture, he felt a sense of pity for his sister. Her attempts to be sterner _and_ softer in the absence of her husband, often misguided, were attempts indeed. Imelda was caught between the two again, and before she could decide which she would trust a knock came.

“That will be the shoemaker.” Imelda opted for distraction. “Coco,” the sound of her nickname perked the child’s attention from her wallowing guilt. “Go with Tíó Oscar to help Tío Felipe,”

“Si Mamá-,” But Oscar had barely caught the child’s hand when she rushed forth as fast as her stubby legs could take her down the front hall. Imelda had only to open the door, and she recognized the height, the voice, the colors. Papá.

Héctor had only managed one word, “Imelda,” the sight of her stealing away his breath-his train of thought, his motion, as though time itself suspended while her eyes grew wide, and jaw agape at the sight of him. Neither could recover before their daughter propelled herself between them-into the skinny shins of her Padre.

“PAPA!”

“Oh my Coco!” Héctor’s face reanimated to the brightest smile-as he knelt to the dusty mat before their door to embrace his tiny girl. Coco threw herself into his frame until he was sitting on the ground-suitcase and decorum forgotten-laughing and squeezing his daughter taught against his heart. She was still so small, his palm easily encasing her entire head-and the patter of her little heartbeat like hummingbird’s as his other hand soothed her back. The love that surfaced in him was so reviving-he felt awake and aware for the first time truly since his departure.

 Imelda remained ridged in shock until the hand of Oscar landed on her shoulder.

“Tío Oscar, Tío Oscar! Papá es aqui!” Coco announced proudly, bouncing and pulling at the lapels of her Padre’s suit. Héctor only smiled, the edges of his eyes glistening with relief and joy.

“Look at you…mucho grande eh?” When he spoke the warmth in his voice warbled with breathless emotion.

“Si Papá!”

“Quien es? Donde esta mi hija!” His fingers secured her waist as she rocked on her heels excitedly.

“Aqui Papá! Aqui! Yo soy Coco!”

“No!  I don’t believe it!”

“Si!” And she nearly fell over in her excitement, before he caught her with ease-and lifted her just the same.

“No ruining your dress, no dirt…” And like always he communicated so smoothly with her-she nodded eagerly. Slowly he drew to his own height, lifting her along without any struggle. Coco clung to his neck excitedly, and it was only Imelda who noticed him wiping his eyes of tears in a quick gesture. Oscar backed silently into the house once more-not seeking to come between the tiny family-or what could happen when the shock wore off his sister.

“Mamá, Papá es aqui!” Coco squealed when they faced her expression, which was slowly neutralizing. Héctor managed a small smile to her and held out his free arm in hopes she would join their embrace. Slowly, trace-like, she stepped forward, and when her shoulder was in Héctor’s reach he pulled her the rest of the way holding each of his niñas in one arm.

“Hola…” Héctor’s voice was barely audible as she felt his lips against the top of her ear. Warmth ran over her cheek and it took her a moment to realize it was his tear. Neither had a moment to speak because Coco had her arms around both their necks in the next moment.

“Papá I danced!”

“Did you?” Héctor and Imelda turned their gaze to her, Imelda looking up and he down to meet their child’s eyes in the middle.

“Si! Like Mamá!” And they all knew what she referenced, the way Imelda could spin on her heels and twirl her skirts, when especially impassioned by music, laughing, trilling, and moving with such ecstasy. Héctor managed in the corner of his eye to see the brief flicker on Imelda’s face-embarrassment? Strange. “But it was bad.”

“Bad?”

“Si, and Jésus is mad at me.” Coco’s eyes fell, her face turning from her Mamá’s gaze to instead earn her Papá’s sympathy.

“Que?” Héctor managed with a confused, and startled smile.

“Coco is supposed to be helping Tío Felipe.” Imelda interjected, sliding away from the embrace.

“Ay you’re getting too cleaver aren’t you.” Héctor mused debating just how much of his mischief had gone into her. Still, the question of Jésus being angry and the strange energy of Imelda alerted him all was not the same since his departure. Of course, it would be stupid to assume it was. Reluctantly he set her down after pressing a long kiss against her cheek. “Vamanos, I’ll see you soon, and-,” slowly he reached into his pants pockets pulling out a few folded pieces of parchment. “Keep this safe si?”

“More poems!”

“Si si, we’ll read them tonight.”

“Tonight?! Papá stays!” And Héctor’s expression flinched, enough so Imelda caught it a moment after her own had.

“Si…I won’t be going ever…” And he placed a reverent hand upon her head-easily cupping it with his long narrow fingers.

“Coco, your Tíos are waiting.” Imelda managed, and finally the girl gave a nod and scurried around the back of the hacienda hugging the parchment to her chest. Little skips, joy in her bouncing braids was their last sight as she rounded the corner. Before Héctor could greet his wife she interjected absently-a chill in her tone.

“You shouldn’t lie to her.”

“Que?” Alarm settled over his features-he understood that tone-that posture as she turned to the doorway with her shoulder reclining into one side.

“I’m sure Ernesto will need you again soon.” Imelda swiftly stepped inside, and Héctor was on her heels so quickly his belongings remained in the yard.

“Imelda,-“

“I have to prepare supper.’

“Imelda.”

“You should bathe you smell like bars.” Without another glance in his direction she was in their warm and organized kitchen again, returning to a mold of dough she had left. There was no need to ask-her fist dove into the pliable surface with excessive force before she spun the dough around in her hands just to do it again. Héctor hesitated in the doorway, watching her shoulders rise and fall with the effort before taking a tentative step closer.

“I wasn’t…lying. I won’t leave again Imelda.”

“Mmhm.” That was all she would gIve, not even a glance in his direction. Crossing to her felt like a leap across a ravine even in their tiny kitchen. Still for her, no risk was too great. He only made it half way to her when her freezing tone silenced him. “You need to clean up. I can smell you from here.”

“Ay…I’ll take care of that then.” With a forced laugh he struggled for any other words then sighed to his defeat, exiting to the hall. No he hadn’t expected her to be blissful at his return-there was so much to explain, to apologize for, and throwing words at his wife when she was this deep within her numbing ice was only going to scathe his own hands with frostbite.

For now he could listen, take in her wishes and honor them in his own show of good faith. After all he understood despite Imelda’s preoccupation with words, she believed physical action first and foremost.

Alone, Imelda’s hands beat at the dough even harder, kneading her fists then flipping it with loud thwacks.

So what he was home.

Thwack.

No letters for _two damned_ weeks.

Thwack!

Just what had he been doing that they had to take three months rather than two weeks.

Thwack!

What was success too dull now? Ernesto too annoying?

Thwack!

Maybe it collapsed on him, a fall out with beloved Ernesto or…

_Thwack!_

Another woman.

**Thwack-**

A hole split apart in the dough making a mess on her hands. Agitated she shook her fingers of the sticky strings before finally gripping the counter to steady herself in her anger. Deep breaths. Counting in her head, _uno, dos, tres…_ She had no idea how long she remained like so until a voice stirred her back to reality.

“Imelda?” Oscar.

“Hm?” She shot up reanimating and crumpling the dough to a haphazard ball to hide the mess.

“So…did you talk yet?” Logical and inquisitive so like her brothers

“Of course. I told him to clean up he smells horrid.” Was there anyway to salvage her dough now, it was such a collapsed mess.

“Imelda you know what I mean.”

“What do you want Oscar?” She barked with the intolerance of a fifteen year old sister sick of improper questions.

“Well,…Felipe and I thought we could take Coco to Mamà’s for a bit-she can help us paint an invention we’re working on.”

“It’s nearly supper-,”

“Is it?” He rose a brow the mess, and Imelda huffed finally relenting to wipe her hands across her skirts. Despite being nearly a foot shorter the look she gave her brother made him feel like a mouse who had just angered a jaguar

“Wouldn’t it be better if you plan to verbally accost him that Coco is not here to hear it?” Oscar managed straightening his glasses nervously, while his older sister seemed to debate the pressing concept. Finally with a groan she knew he was right. Passive aggression was not her style-and she would much rather confront Héctor rather than leave this up in the air. Quietly she wiped her hands across her apron then gave a reluctant nod.

“Very well…”

“If I could give-,”

“I don’t want any advice.” Imelda barked.

“Well…we figured.” He paused awkwardly, against nervously adjusting his glasses until Imelda rose an impatient eyebrow. “Still…he’s not Señor Martinez or one of those men who live in a cantina.” Oscar spit out the words as fast as possible, Imelda looked very unamused at the reference of the town’s notorious adulterer.

“Three months is a long time, and I don’t need advice from my unmarried little brother.” Imelda nearly hissed, tossing the ruined dough into the rubbish bin with a slam. “Make sure she has supper at a decent time then.” She relented.

“Of course…” Oscar wanted to say more, he stood on the precipice but another glare from his sister, her hair already lose from it’s braided bun due to the force of her anger, told him it was best to leave a heated cat alone. And alone it only took Imelda a few agitated seconds to make her decision, throwing off her apron to the table then lifting her skirts to trudge across the garden to _her_ -no now _their_ bedroom.

For a moment she almost knocked on the wooden door-then anger reminded her it was _her_ room. _Her husband._ If he was still changing it was his fault. Throwing the door open she came upon him in his underclothes, still preparing for the bath she’d ordered, and he nearly leapt across the room in surprise-pausing the unbuttoning of his combinations.

“Im-Imelda! You…startled me.” Héctor attempted a nervous smile, and did his best to look casual in the situation reclining against the wall. Imelda felt a momentary frustration he was so calm about nudity and exposure, the fact he could simply smile passively! “Are you…you look unwell.”

“I’m quite well.” Imelda managed swiftly closing the door and turning the lock. “I came here to speak to you, because I would like to understand some things.” The anger was bubbling up, threatening to engulf her completely.

“Understand?” Every ounce of innocence or calm he had only infuriated her further.

“Si! Perhaps I could understand what brings you back suddenly? No explanation? No letter-ay-no letters for two weeks!” Imelda snapped, the words like the sharp stings of icicles in one’s eyes. “Maybe because you knew I was not going to be happy with any further-…mierda filled excuses!” For emphasis she smacked her fist into her palm. Héctor seemed to pale, opening his mouth to speak with a tentative step towards her.

“I can expla-‘

“Explain! Explain to your daughter why I had to tell her to stop looking for you! Because you were late and I had no idea where you were! I had no idea if you would be back, or if you-,”

“Would be back!? You think I would abandon this family!?” Héctor startled crossing to her swiftly in his long strides-a flicker of anger touching his own calm expression.

“I don’t know _what_ I was supposed to think!” Imelda snapped.

“I didn’t want to write until I knew when I would be home-I knew you were angry.”

“Ah! Wonderful! So you leave me to wonder what in damnation you are doing, or if you’re suddenly successful and forgotten us, or perhaps rooming with some _puta_ -,” Each word made her chest rise with fury, the room felt hotter even as her innards felt frozen over in a numb chilling sorrow.

“Imelda!” And he seized her shoulders even as she panted and offered a threatening glare. “Imelda Gloriana Rivera Lopez if you think I would ever- _ever_ be unfaithful to you-!”

“And why not! What makes you so special men do it all the time! You had your dream, you had your music, and that was your first love not me-,” Imelda writhed to be free-refusing to get lost in his  touch, refusing to be drawn in.

“I gave it up.” The words came out plainly, but hung in the air like he had just paused time around them. Now the words hesitated upon her lips, her mind spinning, taken off it’s track of anger and searching for her barring.

“What does that mean?” Swallowing, pushing them out even though the answer was deducible even if improbable.

“Ernesto wanted my songs, he was-Dios you should have seen him, he was a changed man his desperation. I kept saying I wanted to go home and he’d become nearly violent over it. Finally I…I just threw the _book_ at him and said I needed my family more.” There was a pain in his voice, all those years of writing, writing, writing, working-that notebook was his heart. She knew it well, it was nearly filled to the brim with a decade of music. Glancing to his opened suitcase she noticed the pile of clothes, the guitar case beside it-no book.

“Héctor-,”

“It’s only you…it’s only you, Imelda, my niña, mi amor, how could you think there would ever be another woman?” His voice shook, the smile on his face painful-eyes glistening over. “Ay,…music-music was a dream-but when I fell in love with you,” A tear escaped him as he looked down. “I didn’t need that ‘dream’ anymore, reality was better. Hearing you sing when I played for you-watching you dance-don’t you understand? Nothing could ever compare.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” Imelda’s voice had fallen low, breathy, “What the town had to say about me-what a shrew I was-what frigid woman I was-what a foolish woman I was, that I chased you away and you would never,-“

“No Imelda…” And he felt such desperation for her to look into his eyes, they were brimming with heartbreak, tears at her suffering and she hated it. Imelda grit her teeth to avoid her own. “I’ll correct it, I’ll confront anyone who spoke of you-,”

“Well your absence made it the talk of the town!” She bit back, struggling to avoid the sorrow in her chest, the pain that threatened to spill over.

“I was a coward.” The words tumbled out softly, like sprinkled rain across the frozen layer of her anger that had incased the room. “I,…wanted to please Ernesto and think I was serving the family at the same time, maybe it was true in the beginning-but…the minute he kept us apart, kept me from my duty to you…” What could he say. What was at all appropriate in this situation to compensate for this kind of absence-there weren’t words, truly. The pain in her tore at him, and he longed to hold it tightly and take it away-the same horrific feeling as he had seeing her weep in agony at childbirth.

“Your songs are really gone?” Her voice was soft, a mixture of emotions that he did his best to decipher.

“Si, except one.”

“Which one?”

“I’m afraid you never knew it. It was-it is, a secret song, for Coco.” It was hard to resist the smallest smile at the thought of Coco joining in with him singing, her little hands reaching out in excitement, the sweet voice. “That was the parchment I gave her…” to his surprise tears were down her face when she looked up at him, each a mirrored portrait of weeping.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Anything-what is it?”

“What is first-what comes-,”

“Our family Imelda.” Slowly he sank to her height humbling himself, taking her hand in a tight squeeze. It took all he had to not comfort her, to ease the wound in her eyes. “I don’t need dreams when I already have something so beautiful in front of me. I want to write songs for my family, not the world.” Whatever it was that touched her, it was something because slowly she animated, cautiously at first, sliding her hand from his grasp until it wove around his dipped neck.

Dios it took all he had to wait, wait for her permission, until she nodded to him, speaking in softest whisper of “hold me” and he clasped her so closely he feared she’d be swept away by some gale force.

“I hate seeing you cry…” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Idiota, you should have never left then…”

“I know…I know, I’m foolish. But I can learn-I know better to let anyone come between us-you’re my family first and foremost, all other hermanos, tios, primos, will have to wait,” Between the sniffles of tears he mustered a smile, and against her own restraints one pulled at the corners of her mouth until she leaned forward pressing kisses on his eyes.

“Your nose is running…”

“Well so is yours, ahh my handkerchief is in my trousers…allow me t…to…” Imelda had taken his chin in her hands. Dios he had nearly forgotten how slight her hands were.

 “Can I kiss you?”

“…Si.”  he croaked and so carefully he allowed her to further strain his neck, pulling him by the cheek bones to find her lips in a deep melting kiss. Oh…it had been so long. All of the unpleasant smells of travel on him were unimportant because his warm body had her safely enveloped. Héctor’s crooked mouth, soft lips, that long nose brushing her cheek until she let him go-both cautious about pressing limits. The distance of three months became acute, and with a sudden hop-Imelda wrapped herself in his arms forcing him to stumble to his full height. “Imel-da,…”

“It’s been three months…” Hunger. It was distinct, and feral in her voice. The very notes it struck sent a resonation through his core and a realization of her physical form. Imelda, smelling like lemons in her tightly braided hair, avocado on her deep brown skin-and tasting of mango and coffee on her tongue. The need struck him suddenly as a punch and he was aware how warm and tight her petite body was around him. How easy she was to lift even with his lacking muscles. Anger flared vigorously anyone had tried to hurt or shame this woman. He sought to protect her-shelter her- _envelop her._ The press of her thick thighs in his palms was too much to resist-he kissed her again, without any sort of restraint.

Neither could mind any modesty as their bodies recognized their spouse in the kiss. Mango in mouth, licking her tongue, slipping as deeply in her mouth that was possible. They inhaled into the kiss-noses firmly digging into the other’s face. Imelda anchored his mouth onto her own by knotting her fingers into his oily hair like a bind. Each moaned, in tandem, saliva traveling down their chins in place of tears from their messy exchange. Héctor didn’t even notice he’d carried her against the wall, until feeling the resistance which pushed her warmth tighter against his frame. When they drew apart a strand of liquid connected their mouths, each flicking their tongues to catch it, before Imelda found her voice.

“Did you miss me?” Soft, earnest, ravenous. How could she even wonder, it drove the flare in his stomach as his mouth charged for her neck, suckling and licking a line through the hollow of her throat which drew out sensitive gasps.

“Si…everyday, from the minute I stepped on the train…”

“Bueno,” A higher voice, a higher gasp as she turned her neck, lowering her modest collar, for his devouring tongue.

“Did you?” Frantically, impatiently, her fingers began to pull at the little copper buttons on the collar, exposing more flesh for his tongue to baptize.

“Si.” Button after button, until the top hung open, her corset emphasizing the harsher breaths which raised her cleavage. The only barrier between his tongue and her flesh was the crucifix she wore. “Did you-ah,-“ That tongue had gone down to her compressed breasts trailing an outline over each. “long for me?”  
                “Ay Dios,-look at you-…of course-every night…you smell so damn good.” A nip of his teeth at her collar bone-then a bite at her throat, making her legs curl around his narrow hips to show her delight. The mark could leave her better blessed than the cross if he loved her as she needed. Imelda’s head rolled back but she still managed another question between breaths.

“Every night-really?” An answer came when she felt his hips unconsciously grind up between her thighs. Warm weight, pressing _hard_ against her, sending her tailbone into the wall. A place that hadn’t been touched in months, taboo, ignored, suddenly awake and thawing from her icy numbing.

“Si-si, Dios I pleasured myself to the thought of you so many times.” The memories only increased his need, to be close-to assure she was really there and he was not in a hot, lonely, motel closing his eyes so tightly he could hope to forget it was his own hand instead of her flesh.

“Doesn’t the sin frighten you?” There wasn’t any fear in the question, only thrill-arousal growing in her needy tone. She found herself hitching her skirts higher for him, moving the weight aside to better lock her legs about him.

“Not if it brought me closer to you…what about you-,” The small hands where pulling on the straps of his combination and he felt a frantic need to throw it off. But not until he devoured her, absorbed her, eased his lonely soul with what only her essence could soothe-all of him could be spared until then. First, he had to protect her, he had to move himself so close to her that she was a part of him.

“Si, si I did it,” The words barely left her mouth and he moaned grinding into her more deliberately. “I felt so empty…I felt…I needed you.” Plucking one of her hands from the fabric, he brought it to his lips pressing a long kiss into her palm, then licking up each finger.

“These hands…these fingers inside you, _Imelda…_ ” a drunken agony was in his tone, “did it make you wet?”

“Si…did you spend thinking of me, all the time away?” A touch of hesitation, as if anyone else could have entered his thoughts.

“Si-your warmth, your sounds, your smells, your tastes,” Tongue trailing up her jawline, starving bites that suddenly turned south. “Let me taste you-I beg you. Open your legs, let me kneel, and taste your coño…por favor.” It was half plea, half a rugged groan between her cleavage that sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, she slid from his grasp down the wall.

Down her corset ran the kisses, down his imposingly tall form sank to the floor. She furiously shrugged her muted orange gown down the rest of the way, shimming over her wide hips, until standing clad in undergarments and holding up the shift still trapped to her body by the corset.

“Si, put your mouth everywhere on me.” Shame was leaving them both, he a husband on his knees, she spreading her legs brazenly against the wall until the slit in her bloomers left her black pubic curls peeking free. It took less than a second for his hands to frantically yank them down-she kicking them aside and across the room wearing only her boots. Héctor seized her hips, pressing face against the black triangle that marked the entrance to her most secretive treasures. For a brief second he stilled, inhaling the scent of her curls, letting them tickle his jaw and mix into his own scruffy unshaved face.

“How could you think anything would convince me to leave you…you’re incredible, bonita, guapa, magnificia-,” Each word he kisses a trail of kisses down her pelvis until his mouth had found the peeking slit, shimmering with sticky juices that his tongue eagerly leapt to taste. “Dios, si,” Cupping her backside in each palm, he tilted forth her pelvis to better bury his face in the folds of her sex. Hot, humid, wetness across his cheeks. Sticky fluid covered his lips, chin, nose, and it was _divine._ It was uniquely her, it was something only _he_  would have the privilege of knowing. Imelda.

“Oh,” A sharp gasp sent her head back into the wall, cursing the damn corset for how badly she longed for deeper breaths from the wiggling, deep, pressing, ministrations of his tongue that nearly pushed her own flesh back inside her, the bristles of his unshaved face sending little scratches over the sensitive flesh that curved her back off the wall. “Por mi Dios…” A shudder, her fingers slipping forward to interlock in his hair for balance this time. That was her husband, on his knees before her, his face in her more private of places and all she could do was grind in return, push her wet warm flesh into his open mouth for more pressure, more suction, more adoration that left her feelings like a worshipped princess of ancient tales. “T-tell me I am the only woman you’d do this to.”

The outraged groan against her labia forced out a breathless whimper, and a deeper press of his nails into her rear.

“Imelda, I do this to taste _you_ ” A harsh lick down the length of her forcing apart the folded wet skin “to know you,” Another long lick, ending in a sucking kiss across her reddening clitoris. “I want you in my mouth, in my body, my esposa, mi amor…how could anyone come close? Why would I want any other taste-,” Then he rose suddenly, his face soaked in her arousal, his goatee matted together, as she reached up to carefully pry the strands of hair apart. Reverently, slowly, keeping her eyes for permission he reached for the hooks on the front of her corset. With her hand joining his own, they pressed the metal clasps together, freeing her  flesh from the constricting shape. It fell to the ground with a soft thud, and he stumbled backwards from her reaching hands to stare.

Why she needed anything to shape her divine form was a mystery. Those beautiful breasts, now with nursing passed, were not so heavy that she needed the support. It was just enough to cover with his palms and feel the rocky nipples rise up in excitement. Down her soft stomach, colored in the rippling lines from carrying their child-a heart warming reminder of the power she possessed. Then those hips, wide, warm, thick he could _not_ completely capture in his palms but it was so fun to try. Even better to get lost between them in a valley of soft warmth. The transparent shift did little shield her from his territorial gaze, and for a moment she felt incredibly vulnerable. In a flash of dominance she yanked the white fabric off her head tossing it aside to stand in her bare body.

“Ah…diosa…” Héctor managed, falling back on the bed in awe as he sat staring at her, mesmerized and not bothering to hide how the sight raised the tent growing at his waist. Slowly, she stepped toward him, clad only in her boots and licking her lips at the evidence of his erection. Lifting his head in her hands he practically moaned at her caresses, starved for the touch and her forgiveness.

“If I am,…you should know better than to go.” For a moment her anger flared her hands slipping to his hair with a taught pull, forcing his gaze to her. “How dare you.”

“Lo siento…” And he waited in her grasp, not moving until she did. When the tips of her fingers delicately pressed him to lay on the bed he obeyed like the feather touch was a forceful blow.

“I’d beat them, with my boot.” Came her heavy breaths, her body slithering atop him and nails plucking open his combination buttons slowly. “Any woman who touched you, and you…even Ernesto.” With each patch of his chest exposed her index finger trailed and twirled his curly chest hair. Hèctor felt his heart and lower regions swell, reclining up half way to cup her face passionately.

“ _Only_ you. How could anyone enter my thoughts when looking at you-just thinking of you leaves me so satisfied-so-you are so beyond a body Imelda-…it’s just all I have to reach into your depths.”

“My depths?”

“Si, there’s some soul in here.” And his calloused palm pressed flat against her, to trail down slowly, until reaching the mound between her legs with a warm clasp. “That was our wedding wasn’t it, you were promised to me in life and death-that means your soul is my marriage partner when our bodies are gone.”

“You sound like such a songwriter…” Imelda murmured arching into his hand groaning softly at the swaying beckon of his fingers within her.

“I thought of you so much, I thought of you, I thought of this,” Suddenly his hands seized her closer, pressing her down to straddle his hips with a needy moan into her ear. “Ah,- I thought of you riding me, burying in you, your voice, your skin flushing,” Before there could be any protests his fingers wove into her hair straining it free from it’s ties that it tumbled free, black, glossy, smooth, all the way to her lower back.

“Mierda,” Imelda gasped out, the folds of her sex straddling the bulge of his erection, as she grinded softly-whining when his hand clutched her hip to go faster. “I believe you…”

“Y-you do?” Hope, relief, need in his voice.

“You’re never this possessive unless it’s been too long,” A smile on her face, such a beautiful sweet thing. From her hips his fingers danced up her body until scooping beneath her jaw to pull her close in another gasping kiss. Tenderly, his own lips pulled at her lower one, she bit back holding onto his that he could escape-her hunger sending his back into the mattress as she lifted her hips off him.

Without any warning, save the single flicker of dark brown eyes in his direction she yanked open the strings of the combination suit and assisted him in yanking it off his lanky form until it crumpled at the foot of their bed. Suddenly his sensitive cock was in her tight grasp as the possession in her gaze made his stomach turn nearly inside out, and drops of precum drizzle free.

“No one touched you here but me?” Squeeze, nearly painful it was so tight and good, all he had dreamt of for months reclining his head with weakened moan.

“Si-si…”

“Have you ever given this taste to anyone else,” A lick of her tongue over the tip, pressuring deliberately into the slit while her fingers tugged down the remaining foreskin to leave him vulnerable.

“Fuck-lo siento-“ He gasped for cursing, struggling to keep his gaze steady upon her. “No-no…” Slowly her nails traced down the faint muscles on his taut thin waist, making every hair on his body stand up. “Ay, me, you beautiful creature, you nymph,” He slurred out when her mouth dove down his cock-the back of her throat making him practically drunk. There was no need for her to say it, everything in her eyes screamed he was her own. What happy servant he was, to reverse the role of husband and wife because he knew he could find no equal in passion except this woman. Even her anger glistened with beauty how bravely she embraced the struggles of life with full unflinching awareness.

He reclined, her willing partner, gasping frantically as her mouth slid against his cock in such blissful motions. Pleas kept bubbling at his mouth but he dared no interrupt her-until finally it was unbearable.

“Por favor, por favor-put me inside you, por favor mi diosa,” Deep, needy gasps as his fingers tanged into her long tresses of hair. Imelda eyed him without lifting her mouth-as a response she sucked deeper-inhaling though her nose and pressing her mouth down his length making his hips buckle reflexively and his tone a whimper. “Por favor-don’t choke-ah! Imelda-Imelda….I beg you Imelda…I beg you,” Tears were nearly in his eyes from resisting the delicious tight pleasure her throat could bring-the agony of holding still his hips but refusing on pains of death to let her choke. To his agonized relief her mouth trailed off him with a line of saliva, and leaving his cock a shimmering mess. Whatever lipstick she had put on for the day was smeared down her chin, faint cranberry lines over his dark maroon shaft. The power in her half-lidded eyes made her look like a mythological thing he as a mortal should not be gazing upon.

“You’re almost spending in my mouth,” She pressed out her tongue showing him a few drops of precum mixed with her lipstick tinged saliva. His cock pulsed in wanton excitement, rakish devilish pleasure touching his eyes as he roughly yanked her into his arms groaning into her mouth as and sucking her tongue clean of the mess-taking the offering of pleasure she had given him.

“I need to be in you,” He rasped, his lips tracing her earlobe, down her neck with pleading kisses. “Get on me,” A half order, a half plea-the feral passion was thriving in them both. Keeping her lips he felt her slight hands taking hold of his now imposing erection, feeling her face nearly slip away from his grasp she pressed his tip at her quaint minuscule seeming entrance, letting the head begin to stretch her apart for his lodging. “Oh-,” An overcome moan turning into her neck with gracious kisses. “ _Imelda,_ si por favor open for me.”

“Héctor,” The vulnerability in her tone made his arms clasp her chest flush to him as they gasped together interwoven. Arms tightly embracing and faces to each other’s forehead. When she took as much of him as was pleasurable, they paused, neither wanting to move but instead trembling at the union. “H _éc-tor…”_ The fragility, the quiver, the love in him swelled protectively, pressing his thumb to her sweating red face to clear away little lose hairs.

“I’m here…I’m here…” His own voice deep, groaning nearly painfully.

“You’re so warm,” Her voice was on the verge of tears, he could feel her thighs shuddering against his stomach.

“Just for you Imelda, this isn’t for anyone but you.” His voice was nearly frantic, his breath pouring out in honeyed hot gasps on her cheeks and chin.

“I was-s-so lonely.” The word was emphasized as she ground down into his body, feeling the incredible sensation of her insides manipulated by him to new shapes and tickles.

“You won’t be anymore-you wont be-dios there’s nothing frigid in you,” Against the corner of her lips pressed his crooked smile.

“Meet my hips,” Obediently he ground up as she pushed forward, the pair meeting inside with delicious harsh collision. “Si!” A squeal came out, her sweating forehead sliding against his own, as her hips curled forward needing more of their rhythm of the shockwaves they could make when loving one another.

“There’s real music-the sounds you make on me.” Came his guttural hiss, struggling to keep his eyes on her own.

“I love….I love making music with you…” A meek smirk managed on her face, and it was like symphonies of the grandest orchestra-in her, her smile, her warm red sweating skin enveloping his whole thin body-something his senses could have never understood the beauty of until experiencing it with her.

“Only you…only you,”

“I want to feel you as deeply as I can, I want you to regret ever slipping away from this.” Imelda ground down suddenly, and each of their mouths fell open in loud throaty gasps and moans.

 Slowly he reclined to his back, pulling her down with him, to keep their foreheads touching. Then his knees bent for the best angle to thrust forth in the personal heaven she offered. With all his weight he sent his body as deep as he could into the warm sanctuary-into their union, into their blissful self-made universe.

“Fuck-ah-!,” Imelda’s nails buried into his scalp intrinsically, and he sighed with relief at the pressure. “Si-…si…show me.”

And he gave another, thrusting hard enough his body smacked against her thighs and rear, completely submerged. A near scream left her-and shuddering grunt on his effort.

“Like this?”

“Si!”

_Thrust._

“Dios-mierda-I’d never want this with anyone but you,”

_Thrust._

“Ah-fuck Héctor, Cómo lo sabes?”

 _Thrust._ Her breasts shook against his chest from the force he pounded against her tiny body.

“Qué dijiste una vez?”

_Thrust._

“Qué, qué?- ah-mi vida, es perfecto-no detenar!” She nearly screamed the words.

 _Thrust_ -she winced, he felt her body begin to shake uncontrollably around him.

“Soy el amor de…,”

 ** _Thrust._** An encouragement, a demand to answer, her sweat dripped onto his cheeks, as did a few overwhelmed tears.

“Tú eres el amor de mi vida!”

 ** _Thrust!_** Such bliss from her mouth that made his heart flutter.

“Tú también…tú-tú también.” He would show her, he would show her nothing could between how tightly bound they were. Not distance, not time, nor would even death.

Another thrust, his climax was at his fingertips-no he was going to wait-resist until she was there. He didn’t want to go there alone today-couldn’t let her either.

“Mi amor…tell me when you’re there…” He rasped against her cheek, his body beginning to move as quickly as he could to stave off the need in himself to release, to get lost in the blur that he could forget where he began and she ended. She dipped her forehead down, against his cheekbone letting out a long whine-then breathless near cry.

“Now-now-o-oh…you’re making me-you’re-,” It trailed off her mouth hanging open unable to manage any sound, and he took it to let go-let go inside her with a harsh high gasp-the first spasm taking him over with such intensity he nearly forgot to move. The second found his bearings and his palm found her face in a sloppy excuse of a kiss-each panting too hard-but riding the pleasure in one another’s painfully acute orgasm. Their eyes managed to meet briefly as their bodies ascended to a starry plane with one another, beyond any pain or obstacles. His heart surged knowing it’s home with her, knowing that he would surely love her until they were but dust.

Maybe in their instinctual need his hips kept moving, tiny, weak little presses, struggling to keep within her even as his body sought to go soft and rest. She too felt he need, as she reanimated, her mouth flowering little kisses on his scratchy face, and spread her legs a little wider-remaining contently atop him.

“Don’t stop…” She managed in a weak whisper-even as her breath continued to rush from the sensations he’d given her.  Even if she would already be sore, she wanted more-she wanted him to stay in this blissful sphere of motion and pleasure with her which made them feel so totally inseparable and safe. Too much would never be enough.

“Te amo…te amo…” He blessed her with each kiss, her nose, her cheek bones, her lips, chin, repeating the affirmation each time. Tears were on her face, and when her own thumb brushed his cheek he realized he too had wept.

“Te amo…Don’t ever go again…” Fresh tears running thickly over her cheeks.

“I’m not-I’m not I’m here…”

“I had no idea what happened…something could have happened to you…”

“No…heaven and earth would have to conspire to take me from you.” His lips pressed into her forehead protectively. “My life will be by your side-not Ernesto’s, not random stages…here…as your partner, your esposo.” That crooked smile again, and slowly her fingers were undoing knots from his facial hair of her own liquids and sweat.

“I’ll beat him if he causes you anymore trouble…” She murmured, earning a weak laugh from him.

“Don’t worry I’m sure he’ll be preoccupied with chasing his dream now…” A hand scooped up her behind pressing her close as he struggled for a few more little presses within her, until he finally slipped out too soft to go on. Both huffed sadly, ignoring the puddle they’d caused on their bed and thighs. “Ay mi dios…I’m sure we were heard…” He laughed sheepishly.

“No one’s here…” she murmured .

“Qué? You kicked them out?” Surprise, and brow rising. “Wanted me badly?”

“ _Oscar_ didn’t want his niece hearing me yell at you…”

“Good man, good man…” Héctor relented with a nervous laugh, pressing his lips to her neck, as she wiggled closer nuzzling his chest hair.

“I expect another round as soon as you recover…” Her voice slurred-her nails already tracing across his thighs. The joy made him feel as though he floated, the beauty of her, the warmth, the untamed passion. He could deny her nothing, he could never imagine a distance from her again. ‘Young love’ people had scoffed, no, distance had only shown him how enduring his love for this woman was. After all this time he could not help but look to God, the stars, the Gods, whatever sat in the heavens and earth and thank them for letting him have her and how his soul could possibly be so blessed.  

 


End file.
